On Their Last Legs
by Random Ruth
Summary: Starvation is the greatest danger facing the Irish during the Potato Famine, or is it? The Doctor, Amy and Rory solve the mystery of missing people, rotten potatoes and paying the rent in a starving country on the brink of collapse...
1. A Stroke of Luck

**Author's Note:** _This story is set between Amy's Choice and The Hungry Earth in series five. I learned about the Famine in school about four years ago, so the political opinions expressed in this are not my own, but as accurate as I can be to the times. Hope you enjoy._

* * *

><p>William O'Boyle rose with the sun. The golden rays that shone through the crack in the battered wooden door were hitting his wife, who lay beside him, and making her look radiant. Her curly brown hair reflected the light, giving it a golden tinge. She was beautiful, her pale face peaceful in rest, free from the worries of the waking hours.<p>

His eyes traced her figure down to the growing lump on her belly. Another being was inside, safe and warm. They were free from worries too, totally dependent on their mother, completely trusting her to keep them alive. He never referred to the baby as a he or she – just them. He couldn't face the thought of being responsible for beginning a life that would be doomed from the start.

William's eyes moved further away, to his five-year-old son lying cuddled up to his mother, also fast asleep. His chest rose and fell in a regular pattern, the breaths from his nose making a stray lock of his mother's hair blow back and fourth. In the morning light, he could see a small smile on the boy's face as he slept. He shifted, moaning as the light from the rising sun made him open his eyes. Squinting, he looked up at his father who was now on his feet.

"Morning, father," he said, smiling.

"Morning, Patrick," William replied, returning the boy's smile. Patrick carefully extracted himself from his mother's protective grasp without waking her while William grabbed his coat and went to the door, reaching for the loop of rope that served for a handle.

"Where are you going?" asked Patrick, now standing as well. He tip-toed over to where his father stood, the keenness for adventure evident in his bright blue eyes.

"Looking for breakfast. Would you like to come?" Patrick's face lit up and William knew his answer before he said it. In fact he was so sure, he answered three times.

"Yes, yes, yes!" he exclaimed, jumping up and down on the spot.

Patrick said the last word loud enough to rouse his mother from her slumber (she was sleeping for two, after all). She moaned and her eyes fluttered open. Placing an arm between her eyes and the sunlight, she saw her husband and son standing beside the door. "Going for breakfast, are we?" she asked sleepily, taking her time to sit up from her blanket on the floor.

"Yes, Mary," William replied. He didn't want to tell her how much food he had left. "I might be a while, though..." He caught Patrick's disappointed look and amended, "...We might be a while. There might be something a little different to eat in the woods."

Now Mary sat up, causing a pain to shoot through her back. She lay down again, masking a grimace. "What's wrong with the potatoes?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all. I... just feel like we could do with a change of flavours, that's all." William knew it was a lie, but sometimes not knowing the truth is better that knowing it and this was certainly one of those times.

Mary scoffed. "A change of flavours. Ha! If you want to go for a walk all you have to do is say."

William sighed. "It's not like that. If you're okay with it, I'm – we're going now. You just rest some more."

Mary nodded and shut her eyes. William took Patrick's outstretched hand and together they stepped out into the wind-chilled valley. The road that ran in front of their house and everything else was covered in a fresh covering of snow. Patrick gaped at the beauty of it. The sun's golden glow made the snowflakes sparkle for as far as the eye could see in one direction, while the forest was a harsh contrast of black and white in the other direction. Clinging close for warmth, William and Patrick made their way to the edge of the forest.

A dead rabbit lay in the middle of the footpath that the landlord had created for his hunting trips. William couldn't believe his luck. Picking it up by the hind legs, William and Patrick walked back to the road.

A horse and trap was approaching from the east. Hiding the dead rabbit in his coat, William ushered his protesting son into the house and shut the door behind them. As much as Patrick loved to see the horses, they were a sign of wealth. Hunting game was strictly banned in the forest, and William certainly didn't want to be caught carrying game by some member of the upper classes. He'd heard many stories of brave men being evicted from their homes after being caught with a dead rabbit or pheasant. Some men even went hunting in the forest and never returned, disappearing without a trace. Of course, some men went hunting on purpose, expertly covering their tracks and avoiding arrest or eviction. William wasn't a very careful man, clumsy by nature, and nothing (apart from food) was more important to him that a roof over his family's heads. It was for this reason that he didn't hunt in the forest.

But today his luck was in. A dead rabbit could feed the family well for a day at least. Much more filling than the two potatoes a day plan that was currently in place. Patrick pressed his ear to the door at the sound of the horse passing and he pouted. "Why couldn't I see the horsey?" he asked.

"Oh, son. Horses are very nice, but you have to be very careful around them. They can kick you," William lied. He didn't want to burden his son with the real reason.

"Oh."

Giving his son a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, William lit the fire he had set the night before. The single room that was the family home soon warmed and Mary awoke again to the sight of William and Patrick warming their hands around the flickering flames. A rabbit sat by the doorway, skinned and ready to be cooked. Getting up a lot more slowly this time, Mary stooped with a little grunt and picked up the rabbit.

"Where did you get this?" she asked her husband.

"I found it in the woods. Told you we'd have something different." He smiled at her and she couldn't help smiling back. Reaching for her only pot in the corner, she filled it with water from the barrel that sat under a hole in the roof and placed the rabbit over the fire on a frame to boil.

The smoke from the cooking rabbit escaped through the purpose-made vent in the thatched roof. The family waited in excitement for the meal to be ready. All three hadn't eaten anything but potatoes for the past two-and-a-half months. A bit of meat would be a nice change, and also beneficial as winter was still only about halfway through.

On two plates made of wood, Mary placed the now cooked rabbit. Using a knife, she carefully cut the meat from the bones, gathering as much meat as she could from the tiny body. Satisfied, she placed the bones to one side. Gathering around the plates, the family ate slowly with their hands, savouring every mouthful. Patrick's face was one of pure delight, and hearing his murmurs of, "Mmmm," made both of his parents beam with happiness. Today they had fed their son something substantial. He was happy, and by default, so were they.

Thanking God for their good fortune and his satisfied stomach, William excused himself from his family and went outside again. Snow crunching under his feet, he made his way to his field. Normally at this time of year he would still have a huge pile of potatoes stashed to sustain them all through the harsh Irish winters. But as things were, there was no secret stash. No more potatoes. The pile he had started the winter with was already down to one potato. He had to find it, prove to himself that it was still there. Digging through the layer of snow, then straw and then soil, William found it. He had seen it the day before, taunting him. Telling him what a rubbish father and husband he was. He couldn't keep his secret from his family for long, and then it was only a matter of time before they would all starve to death. Tomorrow was going to be a very bad day.

Tomorrow the O'Boyle family would eat their last potato.

* * *

><p>William spent the afternoon in the woods. He wasn't looking for food in particular, but if he saw anything edible he knew he would pick it up. If money grew on trees it would be good too. What he was actually looking for was a good piece of wood, not for the fire but for his son. William didn't know the actual date as he had stopped bothering to count long ago. And he could only count up to twenty at best. There were no months for the O'Boyle family either, just seasons. Spring, summer, autumn and winter. There was no point counting the days until your inevitable death from starvation. He did, however, know the year. After being stopped for rent by the landlord's agent, the man had told him that in the year 1852, men should be able to pay their rent and know what's best for them. On that occasion, William had managed to get a small job and pay the month's rent – whatever month it was.<p>

William also knew of a tradition amongst the upper classes. They celebrated a festival known as Christmas, when children received presents and families would sit down for huge meals at a table. William couldn't give his family a huge meal on a table, but he could at least give his son a present. Spying the right kind of branch just above his head, William grabbed hold with both hands and sagged. The weight of his body made the branch snap off and William landed in a pile of bark and snow. Standing up, he smiled. Pulling the family knife from his coat pocket, he sat down on a nearby boulder and began to whittle.

He knew exactly what he was going to make for his son; he spent the next four hours carefully carving the wood into the right shape.

The short days of winter meant that the sun was beginning to set as William made the trek back to the house. Leaving the woods, he saw the smoke from the fire rising through the vent in the roof. Seeing the signs of sanctuary and warmth ahead, and realising how cold he actually was, William quickened his step.

In his haste, he didn't notice the royal blue box sitting a little to the west on the edge of the woods.

* * *

><p>"Father!" shouted Patrick as his father came through the door, barely getting a chance to close the door behind him as Patrick flung his arms around him.<p>

William smiled. "Hello, son. Hug me and you'll get a chill." The boy untangled himself from his father and looked up to him. "I have something for you..." William said as he produced the wooden gift from behind his back.

Patrick smiled in awe as he took the toy. He inspected every detail with a critical eye. "It's perfect, father, thank you." He grinned.

Patrick spent the final hour or so until nightfall on the dirt floor, playing with his new toy horse.


	2. Ameila Pond the Pilot

**Author's Note:** _Just to let you all know, I have already finished this story, and I'm not just sitting at my computer all day typing. I've already done that bit :)_

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><p>"Pond!" the Doctor shouted, standing in the control room. "Williams!"<p>

Amy and Rory came when summoned. Having only gotten up, they both wore night gowns. Rory's was pale blue and Amy's was pink, because she liked that colour. They walked down the steps to join the Doctor, bleary eyed and dragging their feet. He didn't seem bothered in the least at the early hour - if there was such a thing in a time machine.

When he saw them, he looked a little confused. "Why are you both wearing those clothes?"

Amy glared at him. "Because we're only up, stupid!" Rory took an involuntary step away, not wanting to face the brunt of Amy's Scottish temper so early in the morning. And she'd already called the Doctor stupid, so that was a bad sign.

"Oh right, sorry," the Doctor said quickly, if only to calm Amy's early-morning temper. In fact it wasn't that early. He'd been up for three hours already. He cleared his throat as Amy made to leave. "Actually, Amy, there is a reason I wanted you here."

"There is?" she asked, not quite believing it.

"Yes. I'm willing to take a chance."

Rory asked for Amy, "What chance?" Chances and the Doctor always seemed to go hand in hand, but it was still worth asking - just in case it was a dangerous chance.

"Amy, I'm going to let you help me fly the TARDIS." There was a huge grin his face now and he spread out his arms as if he was expecting a hug.

"Really?" Amy asked, narrowing her eyes. She had asked the Doctor if she could help before, and he'd always denied her the opportunity, saying that he didn't want her to leave a dent in another time zone.

"Really," the Doctor replied. He realised that no cheers or hugs were coming in his direction and placed his hands by his sides.

Amy's silence at the Doctor's offer was becoming awkward, so Rory decided to give the conversation a push in the right direction. "That's good, isn't it Amy?" he asked her, giving her arm a small nudge. She turned to him and nodded, before turning back to the Doctor.

"Okay, I'll take your word for it," Amy said. She pointed an accusing finger at him. "But if you ever wake us up this early again, that bow tie is going to meet a grizzly end. Got it?"

The Doctor fidgeted with his bow tie, gulped and nodded. Satisfied, Amy and Rory left to get changed into some clothes for the waking hours.

The Doctor watched them go. There was no way in the worlds he was going to let any of his bow ties meet a grizzly end at the hands of Amy.

He just hoped she didn't crash the TARDIS. He thought about giving Amy a similar ultimatum involving grizzly ends and one of her short skirts, but decided against it.

* * *

><p>Rory was first to emerge into the control room. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a green checked shirt, thoughtfully provided by the TARDIS wardrobe. Amy was sill there, choosing what to wear. With nothing better to do, Rory had decided to seek out the Doctor.<p>

"Ah, Williams!" the Doctor said as he came down the stairs.

"Hi, Doctor," replied Rory. The Doctor looked sheepish. Rory hadn't been travelling in the TARDIS for long, but he was beginning to notice changes in the Doctor's mood were a common occurrence. "What's wrong?"

"Do you have any other names?" he asked.

"I'm sorry?" Rory asked, really not expecting to be asked that.

The Doctor fidgeted a little more with the sleeves of his jacket. "It's just that I like Amy's name. Amelia Pond. It rolls off the tongue. But Williams. When I shout it, it doesn't roll so well."

Rory folded his arms and the Doctor automatically flinched, having seen Amy pull a similar move when she was angry with him. "You do know that Amy's name is the same as a pool of stagnant water that has weeds in it and is in people's gardens?"

"Yes..." the Doctor began.

"The answer is no. My name is Rory Williams. That's it. You'll just have to come up with a different nickname."

The Doctor's face lit up. "I know! You and Amy are together right?" Rory nodded. Obviously. "Then I'm going to call you Rory Pond!"

Rory almost choked on thin air. "_What?_"

* * *

><p>Amy emerged from the wardrobe wearing jeans and a tee-shirt. <em>For a change<em>, she thought. Barely hiding her excitement, she dashed towards the control room. When she arrived, the Doctor was smiling as if he'd found a brand new bow tie and Rory just looked cross. She was about to ask Rory what the matter was when the Doctor called to her from below the stairs.

"Morning, Pond! Glad you're ready for your lesson..."

Amy held up a hand, silencing him. "Lesson? Don't call it that. I'm not in school, Doctor."

The Doctor thought for a moment. "Okay, well... um, ready?"

Amy descended the stairs as if she depended on it, going to stand it front of the Doctor. "Yep," she beamed.

Behind her, Rory grabbed onto the rail and held on tight. He wasn't taking any chances.

Clapping his hands together, the Doctor started leading Amy around the console, pointing out what everything did. "Ketchup here, mustard here... that's the atom accelerator... combustion compressors... candy floss machine..."

Amy stopped hearing any of it by the time he got around to the hot and cold taps. It was just a lot of words all too quickly.

"Have you got all that, Pond?" came the Doctor's voice from ahead.

She could have told the truth, but she was afraid she'd fall asleep on her feet from boredom. "Yes, Doctor."

"Good. There might be a test later on." He grinned at her and stepped back, gesturing for her to continue herself. "Take me and Other Pond here to somewhere fun." He didn't catch Rory's scowl.

With so much running through her head, Amy decided that the best thing to do would be to try and remember what the Doctor did – pull levers, flick switches and hope for the best. She pulled a lever that she'd seen the Doctor pull almost every time he flew the TARDIS. Then she flicked a commonly-used switch. Amy typed a random year into the type-writer. Her fingers landed on the keys designated 1, 8, 5, and 2. She could do with a visit to Victorian England. It would be, as the Doctor said was required, fun. She pulled another lever that was popular with the Doctor and the whole TARDIS shook, the blown glass of the time rotor moving up and down to the sound of the handbrake. Amy clung onto the console for dear life, Rory kept the railings in a death grip and without the console to cling onto the Doctor fell to the floor.

The TARDIS stopped shaking and groaning and fell silent. They had arrived.

Rory straightened and let go of the rail reluctantly. He added TARDISes to the mental list of things that Amy couldn't drive.

Amy had managed to stay upright during the journey, and she turned to see the Doctor sprawled on the floor. He opened his eyes. "Is it over?" he asked her.

Amy grimaced. "Yes, Doctor," she said. She just knew she was going to get a telling off now. Rory thought the same thing.

The Doctor quickly got to his feet. "That was a perfect landing, Amy, well done!" Fearing that the Doctor had sustained some sort of head injury to be coming out with something as obviously wrong as that, Amy gave him a questioning look.

"Are you okay? Really?" she asked.

"Of course! I'm always okay." He turned the console and had a look at the scanner. "Says here that we've landed in 1852. Nice work, Amy. She must like you."

Amy knew that the Doctor referred to the TARDIS as 'she' a lot. Rory, however, didn't. "What do you mean 'she'?"

"The TARDIS, of course," the Doctor explained. "She doesn't always behave for me and take me where I want to go. Knows me too well, I suppose. Likes to annoy me a bit." He paused to consider. "I think she likes girls a lot. She always behaves for them. First River and now Amy."

"You know, Doctor, you are talking like the TARDIS is a donkey or something," Amy said.

"Am I? Sorry, old girl." He stroked a panel as consolation.

Rory shook his head. "Um, where in 1852 are we, Amy?"

Amy didn't think of that. "England... hopefully."

"As long as you don't want to meet the queen, I think we should be okay there," said the Doctor.

"What's wrong with the queen?"

"Nothing yet, but in..." he checked his watch that didn't really work be liked to think it did, "ooh, in about seventeen years from now Queen Victoria's going to meet me and get really cross for some reason. I suppose secretly being a werewolf does that to a monarch."

Rory was stunned into silence. And so was Amy. Almost.

"I'm not going to ask. Just find out where we are."

The Doctor ceased rambling and nodded, making it to the TARDIS door in fewer strides that humanly possible. He opened the door carefully, making sure that no weapons were pointed in his direction, before striding out and shutting the door behind him. The first thing he noticed was that it was almost dark. The next was the snow. "Oh, brilliant! Snow!" he said to no one in particular. Grabbing a handful of the brilliant white stuff, he threw it in the air so it could fall on him. The flakes landed in his brown hair, freezing into place. Still giggling like an overgrown child, the Doctor licked his finger and stuck it in the air. The wind was coming in a small breeze from the east. In the late evening light, he could make out a little house on another side of a road.

There was no mistaking that kind of house. The Doctor knew exactly where they were, and it saddened him to the bottom of his hearts.


	3. Not Charlie the Badger

Returning to the TARDIS both sad and cold, the Doctor told the Ponds where they were. "A little stone house with a thatched roof," he told them. He went on to explain that it was the typical housing of the poor during the Potato Famine – the second one – in Ireland.

"Oh, my God," Amy said.

"I've been here before, Amy, and I helped a little family once. But they weren't in a good state. Starving. My best guess is that the people in that little house are starving, too."

"We have to help them," Rory said, his nurse instincts kicking in. Amy pulled him close, and nodded her agreement.

The Doctor smiled solemnly, the snowflakes in his hair melting, causing it to slump and making him look even sadder. "Do you mind if we hop forward to the morning? We'll be able to help them better in the daylight."

"No," said Amy, "I don't mind."

* * *

><p>William awoke the next morning not with the sun, but to the sound of Patrick coughing. He was sitting up, his back against the wall. Mary had shuffled over to him and had a comforting arm around his shoulders.<p>

"What's wrong?" asked William, his voice laced with worry as he shuffled over to the other side of the boy.

"He must have caught a cold," Mary said, rubbing Patrick's back as he suffered a coughing fit. She didn't dare say aloud her other damning theory. Sometimes landlords would leave poisoned animals in the woods as a warning for people who hunted illegally. She shook her head to clear the notion. They'd all be sick if that was the case, or worse – dead.

Mary and William both knew that any illness drained the energy of its victim. The mixture of hunger and cold weather was already taking its toll on them all. What Patrick really needed was rest, warmth and a full stomach. They couldn't provide all of those things, sadly, but it was worth a try. "I'll try and find us something to eat," William announced. Mary nodded, and Patrick smiled weakly at him, his breathing shallow and his skin even paler than usual.

The sight of his son in such a state made William want to go into a corner and cry. He couldn't even care for his own child. What a rubbish father he was.

Leaving the house, William saw that more snow had fallen in the night. Cursing his luck, William made it to the edge of the woods and froze, as if he had been turned to ice by the freezing gale. There, in front of him, was a big blue box. There were words on it, but he couldn't read them. He slowly shuffled over to it, about to touch it when a shout came from the woods.

"Oi! Hands off my box!"

* * *

><p>"It's winter, Ponds, so you need coats. And it's Ireland, so you need two coats," the Doctor instructed his companions.<p>

"What about you?" Rory asked the Time Lord, taking in his tweed jacket. Hardly the perfect wear for a winter day. For an Irish winter day, he might as well be wearing nothing at all.

"I'll be fine," he said. Still dubious, Rory and Amy made their way to the wardrobe. It was a vast space, but then everything was vast in the TARDIS. The wardrobe was three floors tall, with clothing from all time zones and alien races that the Doctor had ever visited. Bypassing the twelfth century bit, the couple found the coats. Rory picked out a black one with a fake fur lined hood. Amy found a sky blue coat with mittens attached to the sleeves on little woollen threads. The coat's hood was lined with fake fur too.

"What about the Doctor?" asked Amy.

"Maybe Time Lords don't need coats. Maybe he's got his own alien central heating," Rory suggested weakly.

Amy didn't believe him, and frankly he didn't believe himself. She searched through the rows of coats before something caught her eye. Pulling it out, she smiled at her cleverness. She was holding a tweed jacket, lined with fake fur on the inside. There was no hood, but Amy was sure that the Doctor's thick brown hair was all the insulation he'd need in that area.

"We got you a coat, Doctor," Amy announced as she and Rory returned to the control room. The Doctor looked up from under the console, grinning when he saw the coat Amy was holding up.

"Wow, Amy... where did you get it?"

Amy did a double take. "What? I thought it was yours..."

The Doctor bounded up the stairs, taking the coat from Amy and hanging his jacket on the hat stand beside the door. He shrugged the coat on. "What do you think?" He fiddled with the lapels and fixed his bow tie.

"You look... Doctor-y," said Rory.

"Yeah. Completely Doctor-y," Amy agreed.

"Excellent!" the Doctor beamed, clapping his hands together. "Now, let's go and help some poor people."

* * *

><p>Stepping out into the Irish winter was enough for Amy, despite sporting a really warm coat and mittens, to shiver. She wrapped her arms around herself. "It's freezing," she said. Her breath could be seen drifting away in the strong gale that was currently blowing through the valley. Straight ahead, she could see a small house that was smaller than the size of her kitchen. Behind the house were a lot of mountains and between the three time travellers and the house was a road. Everything was covered in a thick layer of snow. It was like something out of a Christmas card.<p>

The Doctor decided it would be best to look for some food in the forest first. As tempting as bringing the entire contents of the TARDIS kitchen with them was, the Doctor knew that these people would be used to poor quality foods and small meals. Giving them something to rich too soon would upset their stomachs.

They entered the woods, the Doctor leading the way while Amy and Rory followed behind. There was a path leading through the trees, and they followed it. "I remember learning about the Potato Famine at school. It sounded terrible," said Rory as they walked.

"Oh, it was, Rory. People starving to death in their own homes, unable to feed themselves. Can you imagine what that felt like?" the Doctor said, not stopping to face them.

"I don't want to, to be honest," said Amy. Thinking of all the starving people made her want to be really cross with the bad potatoes that caused the problem in the first place. She remembered learning that potato blight made the potatoes bad in the soil, so by the time the farmers dug them up, they were rotten and inedible. She was thinking so much that she didn't notice when the Doctor stopped in his tracks. She bumped into his back, and he turned around and shot her a look. "What?" she asked him.

"Shh," the Doctor ordered Amy and Rory, placing a finger over his lips. He turned from them again and both humans gave each other quizzical looks. The Doctor's body was tense, and if he was a cartoon, Rory was sure that the Doctor's ears would have grown and extended towards a sound. The group stood in silence for several more minutes before the Doctor relaxed.

"What just happened?" asked Amy.

"There's something underground," the Doctor whispered. "I can feel it."

"Are you sure it's not a badger or something?" suggested Rory.

The Doctor whirled around to face them. "I like badgers. Did I ever tell you about Charlie? No, wait." He was silent for another few minutes. "It's too big to be a badger..."

Suddenly, snow behind him exploded upwards, as if the burrowing creature was breaking the surface. The Doctor didn't really want to meet the not-badger, so he gave a simple order. "Run!"

Amy and Rory didn't need telling twice. They turned on their heels and ran for their lives. The Doctor followed them, pointing the sonic screwdriver behind him towards the not-badger. There was no sign they were being pursued however, so they jogged towards the edge of the woods.

However, the search of the snow-covered woods proved fruitless (and meatless, vegetable-less and confectionary-less) in the means of food for the poor. They were just at the edge of the woods when they saw the man leave the little house and cross the road, coming towards them. The trio dived behind a bush, the Doctor watching him through a gap in the twigs. The man had fair hair and a short, roughly-cut beard. His skin was pale, and looked like he was made of just skin and bones. He looked young, but there were lines of strain around his eyes, so it was hard to tell how old he was.

The Doctor, Amy and Rory all watched with mild amusement as the man spotted the TARDIS. First, his eyes went wide, and then he shuffled through the snow, just about to touch the wood when the Doctor leaped out. Amy and Rory followed suit.

"Oi! Hands off my box!" the Doctor told the man.

The man turned to face them and his eyes grew wide once again. He didn't say anything.

The Doctor stretched out a hand. "Hello, I'm the Doctor. What's your name?"

The man took the Doctor's hand. "I'm William. William O'Boyle." The first thing William thought when he saw the three newcomers before him was how healthy they looked. Well fed with colour in their cheeks. They must be from the upper class. The funny-looking man's accent was an English one, make no mistake. Suddenly wary, William withdrew his hand.

"Well then, introductions! This is Amy and this is Rory." Both of the Doctor's companions waved nervously. The look on William's face was unreadable.

"You're English," William said. It wasn't a question, just an announcement of a fact.

Amy was about to tell the misinformed man of his obvious mistake, when Rory took hold of her hand, giving her a pleading look. Amy bit her tongue.

The Doctor whipped out his physic paper. Holding it up to the man's face, the Doctor spoke. "We are from England, yes. I and my assistant Rory are from the... English Helpfulness Foundation. We're here to help the poor of Ireland by doing odd jobs and stuff. Amy here is from the Scottish version of the same foundation. Okay?"

William nodded. "Okay." Now that he had no need to be wary, William's thoughts drifted back to his sick son. "You say you are a Doctor..."

"Yes, I am," the Doctor confirmed, shoving the paper back in his pocket.

"My son. He's sick. Will you take a look at him? Cure him?" William waited with baited breath for the Doctor's reply.

"Of course I will," he said, smiling.

William smiled back in pure gratefulness and led the way to the house.


	4. Medicine Go Down

Mary had just finished lighting the fire when William walked in, followed by three other people whom she didn't recognise. William made no attempt to hide a toothy grin. Mary opened her mouth to speak, but William beat her to it.

"Mary, these people here are from a helpful foundation – the men are from the English one and the woman is from the Scottish one." He jabbed a finger in the direction of the man with the brown hair and pleasant grin. "And this man is a Doctor. He's agreed to take a look at Patrick."

The Doctor scanned the tiny room/house and saw the boy sleeping on a large pile of straw that covered half of the floor. There was a blanket between his body and the straw. He was paler than his parents. The Doctor looked to Mary and then William, asking for permission. They both nodded and the Doctor gestured for Rory to follow him. He knew Rory would be much better at this sort of thing than him.

Before the Doctor could perform the unenviable task of waking Patrick up, the boy started coughing and woke up himself. The Doctor crouched on the one side of the boy, propping him up with a hand on his back as he coughed. Rory crouched on the other side of him. The Doctor rubbed Patrick's back carefully as if he was an expert at these things.

Amy believed that he was.

"Hello," the Doctor said, grinning at Patrick once the coughing fit was over.

Patrick reached for his wooden toy horse and gave it a cuddle. "Hello," he said, looking at the Doctor, Rory and Amy in turn.

"It's okay, Patrick, I'm a Doctor. Just sit still a minute." The Doctor reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a wooden lolly stick.

"Where did you get that?" Amy asked.

"I think it was last week – remember Miitios III? The ice-cream and chocolate." Remembering his audience, the Doctor turned to the two worried parents, ignoring their looks of confusion and shrugged. "You had to be there." Turning his attention back to Patrick, he put stick the lolly stick in the boy's mouth. "Now, say 'ahh'."

"Ahh," Patrick said.

"Good. The throat's a little red. What do you think, nurse Pond?"

Rory wanted to glare, but he knew now was not the time. "Looks like a case of the common cold. Some cough medicine would cure it in a few days."

"Nice work. Would you mind fetching it?" asked the Doctor.

"What?"

"The medical bay store cupboard. Ask the TARDIS. She'll tell you where to find it."

"Okay," Rory said, nodding.

* * *

><p>The TARDIS medical bay wasn't a new room to Rory, and he remembered it as part of Amy's introductory tour. He just didn't know exactly where it was. He was convinced rooms moved in this place anyway. Thankfully, it only took Rory five attempts to find it. Could have been worse.<p>

The room itself was just as Rory remembered it, except now there were three beds and not two. The walls were white, as were the beds. The doors were dark mahogany wood. Rory opened the store cupboard. Of course it was bigger on the inside.

What looked like it was the size of a standard wardrobe in a child's bedroom actually turned out to be almost as big as the already-big medical bay itself. Wooden shelves reached high above Rory's head, covered in bottles of all shapes and sizes. Some held tablets and others medicine, while there was a corner for injections of various medical substances requiring a needle. The writing on some of the bottles was English, while many more were adorned with alien languages. A table sat in the middle of the room, and Rory walked over to it. He guessed it would take him a million years to find the right bottle amongst all of the ones present. He had no choice but to ask the TARDIS itself for help.

Feeling really stupid, Rory took a deep breath. "Hi... TARDIS. I, um, need some cough medicine for a human under twelve. Any, uh, suggestions?"

There was silence for several long moments. Then a bottle of cough medicine appeared on the table in front of Rory, with a teaspoon beside it. "Thanks," Rory said, grateful. He grabbed Patrick's potential saviour and made his way back to the O'Boyle's house.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Amy decided now would be a good time to ask some questions. The fire was making the room too hot for mittens, so she took them off before beginning. "Doctor, what chased us in the woods?"<p>

The Doctor was sitting beside Patrick, ready to help if he started coughing again. Both had their backs to the wall. Patrick was making his toy horse gallop up and down his legs, with accompanying sound effects. The Doctor sighed and laid his head against the stone wall. "I don't know. But we have to find out. And fast."

Mary and William were sitting by the fire, trying to stay warm. "Have there been any strange goings on lately?" Amy asked them.

Both thought for a moment. Then Mary spoke up. "There have been a few disappearances over the past couple of years, I suppose. But most of it is just rumours, whispers. We're not worth the hassle of people looking for us. Nobody would miss us if we disappeared." She looked into the fire sadly, and William wrapped his hand around her waist in a comforting gesture.

"Don't say that," said Amy. She was on the verge of tears. Seeing the living conditions of these people was very upsetting. The Doctor noticed this.

"It's okay, Amy. It gets better after this," the Doctor told her, and then to the couple by the fire, "Where in Ireland are we?"

"Connaught," said William, not hiding the hint of pride in his voice.

"Connaught," echoed the Doctor. "The worst-hit area. Twenty-eight-point-eight percent population decline. No one knew why. Now we do."

The Doctor's thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. William rose. "Who is it?" he called.

"O'Donnell," came a new voice from the other side of the door. William visibly tensed, sighed an opened the door.

Brian O'Donnell stood in a black top hat and suit, a cane that was more for decoration in his hand. The man radiated wealth. His face was harsh and clean-shaven, with black hair. His eyes were cold. A horse stood behind him, waiting patiently for its rider to return. "I've come for this month's rent," he said simply, dangerously.

"I can't afford it. I have no job, not since I got laid off by your boss last month," William replied honestly.

"Mr. Brown might not require walls built any more, but I'm sure someone else needs them. You must have work somewhere, therefore money."

"I don't have a penny to my name, sir."

The man at the door folded his arms. "I don't believe you."

The Doctor had heard enough. Springing to his feet, he was in the man's face in seconds. "These people are poor, starving and ill. If you have nothing better to do than bully them and call them liars, I suggest you take your rich little self back to your boss and admit to him that you're bullying the poor into giving you something which they don't have. If you have any real reason apart from greed to stay now, I suggest you tell us. Quickly," the Doctor said, just as dangerously, if not more so, as O'Donnell's earlier announcement. "I'm the Doctor, and you are not laying a hand on anyone in this house while I'm here. Understood?"

Amy saw the anger in the Time Lord's eyes and backed away. When he spoke to someone like that, it terrified her. She sat down beside Patrick, who had stopped playing with his horse and watching the Doctor. Mary was watching the Doctor as well from her spot beside the fire.

All the while, the Doctor and O'Donnell sized each other up, neither wanting to back down. William just watched them both in a mixture of awe and fear – both of these feelings for the Doctor. He just couldn't work this man out.

Staring into the strange man's eyes was like looking into a pit full of your deepest fears, but O'Donnell stood firm. Almost as if it was a staring competition, neither man blinked. O'Donnell's eyes were beginning to burn by the time he gave up. "Understood. But you better keep an eye out for me in future."

He turned around, mounted his horse and rode into the forest, not looking back. If he did, he would have seen a man walking out of a blue box.

"Doctor, I have the medicine..." he trailed off when he saw the expression on the Doctor's face. "Sorry, is something wrong?"

The Doctor saw Rory and the anger melted away, moving to the back of his mind to be dealt with some point in the future. He liked Rory. Not his usual choice of companion, but he was proving himself more and more. "Brilliant work, Rory. Come on."

* * *

><p>Patrick swallowed the medicine down hard. He then screwed his face into a grimace, just so everyone in the little house knew his feelings on the subject.<p>

The Doctor ruffled his hands through the boy's fair hair. "Well done. If you take that medicine four times a day for a few days you should be better in no time."

Patrick looked to the floor sadly. "I can't count," he said to the floor. The Doctor patted his arm reassuringly.

"It is okay, Patrick. I can't make decent fudge. We'll stay until you're better. Won't we, Ponds?"

Both Ponds nodded enthusiastically. Both would be happy to help this poor family. Mary and William looked shocked.

"You'd really do that?" asked Mary. Her worries about the foreign trio were wearing off.

"Of course," said Rory. "It's the least we could do."

The Doctor stood, clapping his hands together as he went. Then he turned on the spot, scanning the room for things he could fix. In one corner there was a barrel and his gaze rose to the hole in the thatched roof above it. He hadn't thatched a roof in two-hundred years, but he could give it a try. Pointing at the roof, the Doctor turned to William. "Is there any particular reason for the hole in the roof?" he asked.

"No. I just use all of the straw we have to sleep on, so I have none to fix it with."

"Okay, I'll fix the roof." His keen hearing heard the sound of a rumbling tummy and turned to the offender and smiled. "I suppose you're hungry."

Patrick nodded. "Right then, Ponds. I want you two to go to the TARDIS and cook this family a meal. Something simple – beef and potatoes, with carrots, peas and some gravy. Can you do that for me?"

Rory nodded without hesitation. "Yes, that's fine." He glanced to Amy, who was looking hesitant.

"But I'm not very good at cooking. What if I ruin it?"

"Oh, Amy," the Doctor said. "You can cook really well. Beans, bacon, fish fingers and custard. Remember?"

"But you didn't like most of what I cooked."

"Hey, that was the tongue's fault, not yours." He stuck out his tounge to prove the point. She giggled.

"Okay." Amy nodded as she spoke. "We'll let you know when everything's ready." Rory took her by the hand and they both left the warmth of the house and stepped into the cold snow. They left perfect footprints leading to the TARDIS in their wake.


	5. Holes

The Doctor went to the TARDIS as well, leaving William – his helper for the task in hand – standing outside in the snow and gale. William had seen enough for today without any more shocks. It was his choice to stand outside.

The door opened with a creak and the Doctor stepped out with a square bale of straw under one arm, and an assortment of tools in the other. The bale was heavy, so he walked back to the house as quickly as he could. He left the bale behind the house and ran back to the TARDIS to find a ladder. He emerged again five minutes later. "What's that?" asked William, pointing to the bale.

Having forgotten that square bales didn't exist in this time period (it's hard to remember the entire history of agriculture, especially when you're busy trying to remember how to do something you haven't done in two-hundred years), the Doctor explained. "That is a handy invention called a bale. A 'baler' compacts the straw into squares for easier storage. Not the best for this job, I'll admit, but it's all I could find."

Removing the string from the bale, the Doctor laid the leaves out into rows on the snow-covered ground. The Doctor tested his ladder's grip on the ground before setting it against the wall of the house nearest the hole. Double-checking that it was steady and he wouldn't topple over from a great height, the Doctor climbed the ladder. In one hand he had a comb thing that he thought they used for thatching, and his pockets, which were bigger on the inside, had the pegs he knew they used in thatching. His sonic screwdriver was in reach, too, just in case.

Stretching a hand down to William, the Doctor said, "Pass me a leaf."

"Pass you a what?" William asked, obviously confused. The Doctor sighed.

"A leaf. It's what you call the individual squares of straw. Can I have one now?"

William turned around and picked up a leaf, passing it to the Doctor. "Thanks," he said, before getting to work.

* * *

><p>Desperation had led Shannon McCormick to fittingly desperate measures. With a child's hand (attached to a child) in each hand, she was walking through the forest that was near to her home. She was following the footpath, looking for something, anything, that she could use to feed her family. Her husband, Bruce, had died just the week before from a fever, and she was already struggling to survive. The landlord's agent, O'Donnell, was asking her for money she simply didn't have. With great sadness, she'd decided to move out. It was a huge risk to take, but she knew that O'Donnell would be evicting her and her family by force very soon anyway. At least this way, she kept her dignity.<p>

She brought Ida, eleven, and Paddy, seven, along with her. Where she went, they followed. She knew that they missed their father just as much as she did. Ida was old enough to understand the situation her mother was in. Paddy, although young, was bright enough to understand why they were leaving.

The snow was cold on their barely-clad feet. Leather wasn't the best insulator, but she knew of families with no shoes at all, so she was grateful for them. She was grateful for any possession at all. She didn't know what they were doing to do when nightfall came. Perhaps she would stumble upon an abandoned house and lodge in the woods, or maybe they would all starve to death in the cold forest with no roof over their heads. Shannon shook her head to clear the thought. For her children's sake, she had to find something.

The path in the woods seemed to go on forever. They walked for hours, keeping their eyes peeled for edible substances. None had the decency to show themselves. The family hadn't eaten in thirty-six hours.

In their boredom, Ida and Paddy had decided to play a game. They both ran ahead, trying to play tag with each other. Then the ground caved in below them.

Shannon screamed.

* * *

><p>Rory and Amy were still cooking in the TARDIS when the Doctor finished his task. Feeling very proud of himself, he climbed down from his ladder and patted William on the back. Both human and Time Lord moved around the house and into a position where they could both see the Doctor's handiwork. Somehow, he had managed to weave the shorter stalks of a few leaves into the roof's naturally longer straw stalks. "Not bad, eh?" said the Doctor, gesturing to his patch.<p>

"It's excellent, Doctor," William beamed, staring in awe. He wanted to thank this man with something like money, but he knew it wasn't possible. He was just so grateful for the trouble the Doctor was putting himself to on his behalf.

The Doctor was about to tidy up his mess of straw and pegs when a screaming blond-haired woman came running towards them both from the woods. Tears fell down her cheeks and she stopped short of bumping into the Doctor. She was sobbing so much, she could hardly speak.

William's face lifted up in recognition. "Shannon..." he began.

The woman looked over to William. "Thank... goodness it's you... my children... it took them..." She broke down again. The Doctor pulled her into a comforting hug.

"Hey, it's okay. Who took you children, Shannon? Can you tell me?" he asked her while rubbing her back comfortingly.

"The ground... it fell in... took them... I was so scared I ran away... what kind of mother does that make me? I... abandoned them..." Shannon managed between sobs.

"It makes you an excellent mother. And do you know why?"

"Why?" Shannon asked, pulling away and looking up to the Doctor.

The Doctor cracked a small smile. "Because you found me."

* * *

><p>The Doctor left William back at the house so he could tell Amy and Rory where he'd gone when they emerged from their cooking session, probably covered in gravy splats and bits of potato, knowing them.<p>

Shannon had regained enough of her composure to lead the Doctor to where she lost her children in the woods. Sure enough, there was a gaping hole in the ground at least four metres wide and two metres deep. Pulling a rope out of his pocket like a magician pulls handkerchiefs out of his hand; the Doctor tied the rope around a nearby tree so he could use it to haul himself out of the hole. He gave Shannon instructions to wait and keep watch while he explored.

Sliding down with the grace of a drunken penguin and landing on his hands and knees on the bottom of the muddy hole, the Doctor could see a tunnel going off in two directions. He decided to follow the one that ran parallel with the footpath that was on the surface.

The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver to illuminate the gloom. The odd bone that could be human or otherwise littered the floor. The place stank of... well, he wasn't exactly sure. It wasn't a nice smell anyway. Walking quickly, the sound of the screwdriver echoed off the muddy walls. He had been walking for a few minutes when the tunnel branched out again. Instinct told him to follow the one to the left. Walking on for several more minutes and guided by his trusty screwdriver, the unexpected sheen of metal came into view.

There was a jagged edge to a hole that was at least one and a half metres square. Taking a deep breath, the Doctor stepped through the threshold, wondering all the while what could possibly eat its way through metal.

There was a metal roof just above his head, shiny silver, but with a few spots of rust. The room was square, seven metres-by-seven the Doctor counted. This was abvoisly not from this time period... or planet, to be exact. To one side was a grey, solid sliding door which probably led to the rest of the ship. There was a small purple panel by the door. _Opening mechanism?_ _Could be_, the Doctor wondered. The other side of the room was dominated by a window, deemed useless by the soil on the other side. There was a screen tilted at a forty-five degree angle below the window. It was turned off, the screen black.

There was no sign of the 'thing' that Shannon said she had spotted. But he still believed her, and not just because of where he found himself now. He and the Ponds had been startled by something that wasn't a badger when they arrived. This was probably where the not-badger lived.

Taking another chance – the second today – the Doctor sneaked silently over to the screen. There was a purple panel on one side, and the Doctor acted on his earlier deduction and placed his hand on it.

The purple panels became red.

An alarm blared its warning.

Then something was in the room with him.

* * *

><p>Shannon waited on the surface. She desperately wanted to follow the strange English man and find her children. But for some reason unknown to herself, she found herself trusting him. This Doctor had willingly thrown himself into trouble for her and her family. Thrown himself into a muddy hole in the ground with that monster for them.<p>

Shannon was about to clamber in after him and help when something stopped her.

She recognised the horse before she recognised the man on its back. O'Donnell rode up to her, and she couldn't help noticing the musket strapped to his back, the strap of which was wrapped around his suit. He spied her and the hole before she could hide. Even if she couldn't hide the hole.

"What are you doing here, woman?" he asked harshly, looking down on her from his mount with dangerous eyes.

"I'm... I'm..." Shannon stammered, struggling to come up with an explanation in her head. It had been a rather strange day, after all, and her brain was a little muddled.

"Spit it out." O'Donnell spat the words himself.

"I'm inspecting this hole," Shannon said quickly, gesturing to the huge hole behind her with her hand.

"You low lives. Nothing better to do than waste your own time and other peoples'. Why did you make a hole? The landlord owns the woods. It's against the law to tamper."

Shannon tired her best to come up with an answer that wouldn't get her arrested. "I didn't make the hole... I found it."

"Right... I don't have time for this." To Shannon's surprise, O'Donnell began to ride off. "But if I find another hole like yours I'm going to give you to the landlord," he warned over his shoulder.

Shannon gulped, and returned to her vigil by the hole. _I hope the Doctor's good at filling in holes_, she thought.


	6. Let's Talk

The Doctor felt something hard collide with his side, sending him flying to the floor. He landed about a body's length from where he was originally standing. He rolled over, ignoring the pain that shot through his side when he moved, coming face-to-face with his attacker.

Or should that be face-to-mandible?

Looming over him was a creature resembling a praying mantis. Only bigger. Much bigger.

It reared up on its hind legs, about to throw out its huge, green and spiky front legs of certain death.

"Wait!" the Doctor shouted, sticking an arm up towards the creature. "Wait!"

The creature paused, tilting its green triangular head to one side like a confused puppy. With mandibles. _That never works..._, the Doctor thought, but he decided to go with it. "Wait. Yes, that's it. Listen, I can help you. Just tell me what happened. How did you get here?"

The Doctor wasn't certain what type of creature it was until a voice that was certainly not his own entered his head, joining his own internal monologue.

_I flew from the Silence_, the Mantid said in his head, mandibles rumbling.

The Doctor decided to just speak back. The TARDIS's translation circuits should do the rest. "The Silence? I'm hearing about that a lot lately. What is it?"

The Mantid seemed to pause for a moment, thinking. _I can't remember_.

"Okay then, moving on. How come your ship's underneath Ireland in the nineteenth century?" The Doctor got to his feet as he spoke. The pain in his side was getting weaker now. Ignoring it seemed to be working.

_I flew far, but eventually I ran out of fuel. I crashed into Earth long ago. I hibernated for many years before I finally woke up. Then I waited, but rescue never came. I was going mad with loneliness and hunger. I ate my way out of the hull and tunnelled for mile upon mile, creating a maze that only I could use undetected. Then I hunted_, the Mantid said, rumbling all the while.

"Humans," the Doctor added helpfully.

_No!_ the Mantid snapped. _I had respect for the indigenous species_.

"Really? Then why have two human children gone missing into one of your holes... oh. Had. Something changed, made your turn on your species' belief in respect for all living things. What happened?" Now the Doctor was standing in front of the Mantid, his face was level with the reared creature's eyes.

_I stumbled upon a corpse. Hunger drove me to take a bite. It was good._

"So you decided to keep going? Is that it? Make some corpses for yourself?" The Doctor's voice rose in anger.

_I let them mature for a week._

The Doctor's stomach churned, thinking about Shannon's children that he had promised the safe return of. His mind's eye was not a nice place to be right now. "Okay, so you crashed your ship, the world grew around you while you slept, and now you eat people. You've come a long way from running away from something you don't even remember."

Raising his sonic screwdriver, the Doctor pointed it at the screen. "You don't need that any more," he said darkly, pressing the button. The end glowed green, different in hue to that of the Mantid's skin. The screen exploded into a combination of sparks and shrapnel. The Mantid screeched in anger, raising its oversized front legs again, but the Doctor was already gone as a piece of shrapnel buried itself in the Mantid's arm.

* * *

><p>Running was something that the Doctor had good practise in. He's had centuries to create the perfect distract and run technique. Now he was running back the way he came, ignoring the bones scattered on the ground here and there and the pain in his side too. There was a lot of ignoring to do.<p>

He came to the fork in the tunnel, pausing to have a look at the two options available to him – escape, or exploration. As great as escape sounded, exploration might be more useful. Turning to his left with screwdriver in hand, the Doctor ran down the new tunnel. There were fewer bones here, he noted, and it was a narrower tunnel.

A metal dead end that was obviously another part of the crashed spaceship came into view, illuminated green by the sonic screwdriver's light.

He was about t turn and carry on with the escaping side of his plan when something caught his eye. About half a metre off the tunnel's ground was a line in the metal. A gap. A door.

Pointing the screwdriver at the door, the Doctor pressed the button. The air filled with the sound of warbling, then whooshing as the door slid open. Soil caved into the new hole, and the Doctor had to jump back to avoid being caught in the avalanche.

The soil stopped falling and the Doctor peered into the well-lit room beyond. It was smaller than the one he'd been in before, and there was no window or controls. Just two children, sitting huddled in a corner.

"What? Hello!" the Doctor said. Both children just looked up at him in fear. "It's okay, I'm here to help. Take my hand."

Both children exchanged glances, before rising from the floor and walking slowly over to the Doctor's outstretched hand. The smaller boy was pulled up first, then the older girl.

'_I let them mature for a week'_, the Doctor thought. _It lets them sit for a week. Ah_.

"Okay, now you two. We don't have much time, so we have to escape now. Who wants my coat?"

Two hands shot into the air.

"Okay, take it in turns then. Ladies first," he said as he shrugged off the coat and handed it to the girl. "Now, run!"

Taking each child hand-in-hand, the Doctor led them to what he knew was the exit. He wondered where the Mantid had gotten to, but he didn't dwell on it. He had to save Shannon's children. Despite being both scared and hungry, both children managed to keep up with the Doctor's massive strides. Daylight came into view, and the Doctor sighed with relief, making the final push to safety.

He appeared into Shannon's line of sight and she broke into a smile. She opened her mouth to say something but the Doctor cut her off. "No time. Rope, now!" Shannon ran off and appeared back again a few moments later with the rope.

"Grab hold," he told the boy, and he obeyed. Then he gave him a hand up, and Shannon took the boy's hands in her own and helped to haul him up. The girl followed in a similar fashion, and then all three humans worked together to pull the Doctor out.

"Thank you," said Shannon, pulling both of her children into a hug. Ida gave Paddy the Doctor's tweed coat when they parted.

"We need to get back to the fire," the Doctor told them, taking in the children's thin frames, not the best for keeping warm in the snow. All three trekked back to the house, cold but relieved.

* * *

><p>Amy scooped the potatoes onto the white ceramic plates, careful not to give them too much. She grinned at her handiwork.<p>

"See, Rory? I can cook."

Rory, who had his head stuck in a cupboard in the TARDIS kitchen, at least had the decency to sound impressed. "Potatoes, yeah. You make them every Christmas."

"And the vegetables," Amy added, reaching over to the counter to grab the saucepan full of carrots. Then she spooned them out onto the plates evenly. Presentation was very important to Amy, Rory sometimes didn't bother with it too much, and the Doctor would hand them a bowl of something that looked like sick and pronounce it delicious. That was just the way it was.

Rory checked that the beef was cooked, before passing that to Amy on a tray. "I always cook the turkey," he said.

"And very well, too," said Amy as she finished serving out the beef and reached for the peas. "You know, I think the family will love this."

"Love it? They'll be thrilled, absolutely gobsmacked. They haven't had decent food in years, I'm sure. They'll think all of their Christmases have come at once." Rory handed Amy the gravy pot. She poured even amounts of gravy onto each plate.

"We better go tell the Doctor that dinner's ready," said Amy, finishing off her gravy-pouring. Rory nodded and they left the kitchen fetching their coats as they went.

* * *

><p>They both stepped out of the TARDIS to sight that neither was expecting. The Doctor was covered in mud and he was escorting a woman and two children into the house. The children were just as muddy as the Doctor, and a boy was wearing his tweed coat. Crossing the road that separated the TARDIS from the little house, Amy asked the obvious question.<p>

"What happened?"

The Doctor turned to her and broke into one of his manic grins. "Amy! Rory! Brilliant! I suppose your appearance means dinner's ready?"

"It is, but-"

"Have you any leftovers? It's just that I've found three more people to help." He gestured to the three strangers behind him.

"I'm sure we can manage," Rory assured, nodding.

Amy wasn't going to let the Doctor off that easily. "Doctor, what happened to you?"

The Doctor fidgeted. "Uh, bit of a tunnel."

"And?"

"Kidnapping, running and an alien spaceship, said alien and lots of getting muddy."

Amy folded her arms. "Can't leave you alone for a minute."

* * *

><p>Rory and Amy retreated to the TARDIS kitchen again, trying to make the leftovers into three extra meals. Thankfully, Amy always liked to make extra portions, not least because the Doctor ate like a Labrador.<p>

The Doctor went to have a shower and get cleaned up, and he entered the kitchen ten minutes later in his trademark tweed jacket and bow tie. As if anyone was expecting anything different.

"Will we bring them into the TARDIS or what?" asked Rory.

"I don't think we should show them alien technology just yet, Rory. They trust us, but they're subconsciously wary of people with accents not their own," the Doctor replied. "Alien technology might loose us their trust." He eyed the meals that Amy and Rory had made as he spoke.

"Why is that? William said that you were English almost as if it was a bad thing," Amy said.

The Doctor sighed. "These are times of political uproar, the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland. But there is no trust there. New laws on grain imports tipped the balance, and when Irish potato crops started failing, the English were thought to have caused it to wipe out the poor amongst the Irish, the protestors to the Union. Of course, it wasn't anyone's fault."

"And why's that?" asked Amy, listening intently, with Rory doing the same beside her.

"Because it was the alien."


	7. Gravy and Plans

Dinner was a cramped affair. The Doctor, Amy, Rory, Mary (and unborn baby), William, Patrick, Shannon, Ida and Paddy all had to fit into a small house around a fire. Each person had a plate on their lap as they sat, a knife and fork kept off the ground as much as possible.

The O'Boyle's sat closest to the fire in a line on one side. The McCormicks sat in a row on the other. The Doctor and the Ponds sat furthest from the fire in the belief that they really didn't need it as much as the starving people.

After the morning's events, everyone's appetite was huge. Amy was more than happy to explain to the people before them what gravy was.

"It's amazing," said Patrick, sticking his finger in the gravy on his plate and sucking it off.

The Doctor was right – about halfway through the meal, the people started to struggle, eating at a much slower pace before having to stop altogether. They all looked very upset at having to leave food.

"You can keep the leftovers for later – or tomorrow. You don't need to eat it all today. You could make it into a stew. Mix it all up," the Doctor said, swirling his hand around as if he was mixing in a bowl. His fork was still in his hand as it moved, and a drop of gravy landed on Amy's coat sleve. She hastily wiped it off and shot the Doctor a glare. He didn't notice.

"Doctor, I just want to thank you and your assistants for you help. No one has ever been this kind to us. We thought we would be left to starve, but your kindness knows no bounds. You have saved us," William said with a smile that stretched from ear to ear.

"I haven't saved you all yet," he said seriously, "but you're welcome."

* * *

><p>After dinner, Amy and Rory washed the dishes (the Doctor always managed to wriggle out of that job) while the Doctor planned in the control room, bouncing ideas off the TARDIS. He was sitting on one of the chairs, legs crossed, deep in thought.<p>

"I have to find a way to move the alien that doesn't want to leave. It has to leave the planet. That's crucial," he said aloud to the room.

There was a hum of agreement.

"I could set a trap, but how? It's a giant insect – I can't just hit it with a fly swat. Well, I could, but it wouldn't be very effective. Probably just make it angry..." the Doctor mused.

There was another hum of agreement, which was interrupted halfway through by a knock at the door. The Doctor got up, opening the door a smidge. "Hello?" he said.

It was Shannon, a worried look on her face. He slipped out of the TARDIS, making sure that she didn't glimpse the interior. "What's wrong?" he asked her, now leaning his back against the door.

"I forgot to tell you. The landlord's agent ran into me and the hole when I was waiting for you. He... he had a musket, just riding around as far as I could tell. But what if he's coming for me? What if he wants to..?" She couldn't finish her sentence as a new wave of terror flowed through her and she burst into tears. The Doctor moved forward and gave her a comforting hug.

"Don't even think that, Shannon. I know. It was my fault. I made him angry. He's probably watching us right now, waiting to make a shot. But not at you, understand? Me." He backed away from the hug, and she looked up at him through tear-filled eyes. He placed his hands on her shoulders as he spoke.

"He's a dangerous man, Doctor. I've heard stories. Families who couldn't afford the rent, killed. And no one cares, because we're just starving people."

"_I_ care. I do," the Doctor reassured, "We just have to keep our eyes peeled, and that's all. Make sure that he doesn't come anywhere near you."

* * *

><p>The wind in the valley had died down by mid-afternoon, and the snow showers had eased. The group of humans and Time Lord were around the fire in the small house, and Patrick had just been given his third dose of medicine by Rory. Once everyone was seated, the Doctor then began to explain his plan.<p>

"The Famine wasn't caused by a government conspiring to kill you, nor some curse. Many years ago, a spaceship crashed into this valley. Its inhabitant hibernated, waking up a few years ago. If I'm precise, waking up in 1844, the year before the Famine. The alien-"

"By 'alien' do you mean foreign? Like American?" interrupted Mary.

"Alien as in from another world," said Amy.

"Magic?"

"No..." Amy began.

"Yes! Magic," the Doctor said, glancing at Amy. "As I was saying, this magic alien burrowed underneath all of Ireland over the year that followed, searching for a reliable food source. It returned to Connaught and its crashed spaceship, stumbling upon a food source – people."

There was a collective gasp from every human in the room.

"The bacterium on the alien's skin causes potato blight, making your potatoes rot in the soil. Because this alien is here, people are still going to get failed crops and continue starving. But even if we save the alien now and it leaves, the bacteria will stay in the soil. The effects will wear off eventually, given a few centuries. We have to make the alien leave as soon as possible."

"How do we do that?" asked Rory.

"That's a very good question," said the Doctor. "I have a faint idea, but I'm still going to need help. Amy – I need you to stay here."

"What? No. I want to help," she protested, standing to face the Doctor.

The expression on the Doctor's face was solemn. "I can't let you. I don't just have the responsibility of looking after you any more; I have to look after Rory too. I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you both, and I know Rory would have my ear – or worse – if anything happened to you, so you have to stay here."

Amy folded her arms. "No. You'll go and get yourself killed."

The Doctor opened his mouth to speak, but Rory stood up and beat him to it. "I'll go with him, Amy."

The Doctor shook his head. "Rory..."

"One of us has to go with you. Would you rather have Amy or me?"

The Doctor sighed. "It's your choice."

"I want Amy as safe as you do, so I'll go."

The Doctor nodded, and so did Amy, safe in the knowledge that the Doctor would have some sensible supervision. William chose to come as well, saying that it was his duty as a father to prolong the safety of his family, no matter what the danger.

"Now, everyone, listen. Shannon spotted O'Donnell in the woods this morning with a musket. Do not approach him if you see him. Try and stay in the house by the warmth of the fire. Alright?" said the Doctor.

Amy and what remained of the Irish families nodded. "Good luck," she said.

"And you," the Doctor replied, leaving with Rory and William.

* * *

><p>The Doctor and Rory went into the TARDIS to collect a net and a shovel, while William waited outside. The Doctor needed his trust more than ever now, and didn't want to jeopardise it for the sake of seeing his reaction to the bigger-on-the-inside spaceship.<p>

The Doctor carried the net, and Rory carried the shovel. The Doctor hated to put them both in danger, but he needed numbers if he was going to catch the Mantid.

The walk to the hole was narrated by Rory's 'panicked babbling', as Amy liked to call it. He babbled when he was nervous, and the Doctor couldn't blame him.

"And then there was that time Amy buried me on the beach and left me for an hour. Not nice. If we get buried by this thing and left for too long, we die. That's not a nice way to go, soil. It's almost poetic really..." he babbled.

The Doctor managed to blot out the sound of Rory's constant babbles, but, as much as he wanted to, William couldn't.

"I hope we survive," was all he could say.

"Listen to you two," the Doctor moaned. "A bit of a positive attitude never hurt anyone, you know."

William and Rory forced smiles. The Doctor sighed and walked just that little bit faster, as if the net on his back was telling him to. William and Rory had to quicken their pace to catch up, and by the time they reached the hole, both humans were out of breath. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the Doctor was unaffected.

He dropped the cream-coloured tangle of ropes that reminded Rory of a fisherman's net at his feet, and circled the muddy hole, chin in his palm. Still out of breath, Rory leaned on his shovel. "How are we going to get this thing out, Doctor? I don't think I caught that part of the plan," Rory said.

The Doctor looked up at him from the opposite side of the hole. "The Mantid hunts with vibrations. I was going to get us all to jump up and down and have a little dance, but it's too dangerous."

"So, what are we going to do?" William prompted.

"I'm going to have to go in and find it myself."

"You do realise that doing that is just as dangerous as the dancing, if not more so?" Rory asked.

"Yes, I know, Rory. I you have any better ideas, I'd love to hear them," the Doctor snapped. Rory's silence spoke for him. "Okay, then. I'll lure the Mantid out of this hole. The shovel you're holding, Rory, is so you can dig a slope for me to climb out myself. The rope is still around that tree over there, so that can stay draped over the lip of the hole. William, I need you to throw the net over the Mantid as it appears, making sure not to get me caught in it. That would be very not good. Rory, screwdriver." The Doctor threw the sonic screwdriver to Rory, who caught it but let the shovel fall in the process. His cheeks flushed and he picked the shovel up.

"What do I do with this?" he asked.

"The screwdriver is preset to knock out the Mantid. All you have to do is point and press. Got it?"

Rory nodded, putting the screwdriver in his black coat's pocket.

As Rory dug a small slope into the hole's opening, which he honesty thought wouldn't make much of a difference, the Doctor showed William how to throw the net without it snagging on low branches.

Satisfied that his plan had a forty percent chance of succeeding – good odds in his book – the Doctor slid down into the hole, this time landing with a bit more grace on his feet. He grinned up at Rory who was still digging, and give him the thumbs up sign. Rory just smiled back. The Doctor could see the sheen of perspiration on Rory's forehead.

"Maybe you should take the coat off, Rory?" he suggested.

The ground was hard because of the layer of snow, and digging was proving difficult. Rory wiped his forehead with his sleeve. He was so warm in his fur-lined coat. He began to shrug it off, only for the bitter winter chill all around him to make him put it back on. "I think I'm okay," he told the Doctor. With one last bob of the head, the Doctor was gone.


	8. Very Welcome

This time the Doctor had come prepared. Pulling out the torch from his bigger on the inside pocket, he started his search. This was a very stupid thing to do, he knew, but it was the only way. This way kept Amy and Rory, not safe, but safer. The bones that littered the muddy floor were a harsh reminder of why he was doing this. The Mantid's presence on the planet had introduced a plant disease that had already killed a million people and forced another million to leave the country. It had to stop.

He followed the tunnel to the eaten 'door' that the Mantid had made in its madness. The main difference this time around was the Mantid standing in the room, and the second was the absence of the screen below the window. But the green compound eyes that were staring at him right now were his biggest concern.

If the Mantid had eyebrows and eyes that could narrow, he just knew there would be a very extremely cross expression on its triangular face right now. The Doctor spotted the injury on one of its front legs and grimaced. _Oops_, he thought, _that won't help with the anger management_.

_You are either really stupid or really nosy to be back here_, the Mantid said. The anger in its words was obvious.

"I'd say it was a bit of both really," the Doctor admitted with a shrug.

The creature hissed, rising on its hind legs once again, coming eye-to-eyes with the Doctor.

"Wait?" he tried with a childish grin. He didn't wait for a reply before he ran.

* * *

><p>Rory was too warm in his coat by the time he finished digging, and finally took it off. The winter chill was welcome relief from the sauna of his own body heat. He walked over to the tree with the rope tied around it and placed his folded coat down. He laid the shovel against the tree as well.<p>

William was poised with the net beside the hole, understandably nervous. His hands were shaking slightly, but it was the fear of what was going to come out of the hole that had him on edge.

Rory was just about to fish the Doctor's sonic screwdriver out of his coat's pocket when the sound of a musket shot filled the air. Rory whirled around on the spot, the snow making that all the more difficult.

William dropped the net to the ground, placing his hands in the air as he did so in a gesture of surrender.

It didn't take Rory long to mirror him.

O'Donnell was reloading his musket as he sat on his large horse. Finishing, he pointed it at Rory. "Now, you, where's the Doctor?"

* * *

><p>This time, running along the tunnels was much easier. The mental map in the Doctor's mind led him down the right tunnel as he turned a corner...<p>

_Hold on, what? There was no corner before!_ the Doctor thought, skidding to a halt. The creature must have started work on a new tunnel, for there was a corner where there wasn't one before. The sound of the Mantid's screeching in its pursuit was getting louder, but the Doctor was here to lure, so he waited a little longer until the torch's beam caught a glimpse of green.

Then he was off again at lighting speed, running down the correct tunnel this time. The Mantid was slower thanks to its injury, so the Doctor paused again for it to catch up. Daylight came into view ahead and the Doctor quickened his pace. He knew something was wrong when Rory wasn't standing there, waiting to help him up. He kept his mouth shut and grabbed a hold of the rope, using Rory's slope to grab onto. He hauled and grunted and with a lot of effort, managed to make it onto the snow-covered surface on his hands and knees.

The Doctor got to his feet quickly and found himself staring down the barrel of O'Donnell's musket, a grim expression on his face. The man had dismounted and was standing just in front of him. The Doctor waved his arms about, ignoring him. "We don't have time for a standoff," he complained. "The Mantid's coming now!"

"Shut up!" O'Donnell shouted, getting ready to fire. The Doctor glanced to his left and saw William and Rory standing side-by-side, hands in the air and looking terrified.

The Doctor ducked, taking O'Donnell by surprise. But the man's musket did not follow the Doctor's head as it went down, instead rising.

The Mantid had sprung from the hole, much like a giant grasshopper, the Doctor rolling out of its way. O'Donnell wasn't so quick, and stayed where he was. He pulled the trigger, the bullet hitting the Mantid's head, blasting it apart in mid-flight. Bits of Mantid rained down on the Doctor and O'Donnel. The Mantid's heavy corpse fell on top of O'Donnell, crushing him, with all of the sickening sound effects.

Ever the nurse, Rory ran over to the man, checking his pulse. Rory shook his head sadly. O'Donnell was gasping for breath, the ones he was able to draw shallow. His head lolled, and his eyes became lifeless as he took his final breath. Snow began to fall again, the flakes never disturbing the man's eternal slumber.

The Doctor got to his feet slowly, deeply saddened by the carnage before him. A dead man and a dead alien. What a failure his plan had been.

* * *

><p>Amy watched as the Doctor, Rory and William returned, the grim looks on their faces a giveaway that things hadn't gone according to plan. Again.<p>

"Are you okay?" she asked no one in particular.

The Doctor nodded. He wasn't okay. Rory nodded. He wasn't okay. William nodded. He wasn't okay.

William walked past her and into the house without a word. Rory came and gave her a lingering kiss on the lips, followed by a hug. "It didn't go too well," he said quietly.

"I lead the Mantid to its death, and a man died who shouldn't have been there." The Doctor stood, studying the ground. Amy walked over to him and gave him a hug and he pressed his head into her shoulder. It was times like this that he wasn't the nine hundred-year-old time traveller, just a man needing comfort. Amy was happy to offer him that.

"I'm sorry it didn't work out, Doctor," she said as they parted.

He nodded. "I have a few things to sort out before we leave," he said, wandering back to the TARDIS. "You can both wait here. I won't be long."

Rory slipped his hand around Amy's waist as the TARDIS dematerialised, leaving nothing but a crushed square of snow behind it.

* * *

><p>The Doctor took the Mantid's body back to its home world. <em>Thank you for your honour, Doctor<em>, he'd been told. The Doctor didn't believe it.

He took O'Donnell's body to the landlord's house so his family, if he had one, could be informed.

Then the Doctor filled in the hole with soil, so that no one else could fall in or stumble upon the Mantid's spaceship. Well, perhaps apart from an unsuspecting badger.

He had one more stop in the TARDIS before he left.

* * *

><p>Amy and Rory waited patiently for the Doctor to return. While they were waiting, Amy guessed that they would be leaving soon. Rory nodded his agreement and explained to Mary and William how to give Patrick his cough medicine.<p>

"Where will you go, Shannon?" asked Amy when Rory was finished.

Shannon shook her head. "I don't know. I still have no money. Now O'Donnell's dead, the landlord will just get a new agent who could be just as bad again, or perhaps worse." She watched her children with worry.

"Oh, I don't know. They always say that money's no object," the Doctor said, entering the house with two suitcases.

"But it helps," William muttered.

"It does. And so do I. Now, I want a promise from all of you – yes or no."

"What is it?" asked Amy.

"Sorry," the Doctor said. "Not you two, you're excempt."

"Thanks," said Rory.

"Welcome. Now, promise me that you will use the contents of these suitcases sensibly. No items that you don't need – I'd stick to food and a roof over your heads if I were you."

"I promise," said William and Shannon together. The children all nodded enthusiastically, and Patrick made his wooden horse nod, too.

"Yes," said Mary.

"Okay, good, Mary, glad you're on the ball. Here you go." The Doctor leant over and placed a suitcase on William's lap, then the other on Shannon's. "That should be enough to keep you going for a good while."

A confused look on his face, William opened the suitcase. The confusion was soon replaced with glee, and the widest grin that Amy had ever seen. Shannon followed suit, and before he knew it, the Doctor was being given hugs from everyone in the room, even the children.

There was money in the suitcases. And a lot of it.

"Thanks, Mr. Doctor," Patrick said.

"You're very welcome," replied the Doctor, smiling. He looked to Amy and Rory who were grinning too. "Come along, Ponds. I think our work here is done."


End file.
